Every Rose Has Its Thorns
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: If every rose had its thorns, didn't it stand to reason that every thorn had its roses?


_A/N_

_So, just a heads up, this can basically be considered an "AU oneshot." Specifically it was based on watching the clip "Soren vs. Rayla" on YouTube (a snippit from season 2, episode 2 from what I understand) and doing a "what happens next" from that point. Of course, I know that whatever happens next isn't what happens here, but as I haven't got round to season 2 yet, and probably won't for awhile, I can only guess. So, this isn't special pleading for immunity against OOCness or whatnot, but to at least provide the context in which this was drabbled up._

* * *

**Every Rose Has Its Thorns**

"Callum?"

"Yes?"

"I just want you to know that you've got terrible taste in friends."

It would have been a false statement, if one had said that the barb didn't pierce Callum's skin. However, it would have been just as false to say that he didn't try and hide it. So sitting at the campfire, at a camp that had become larger yet more divided, he said, "that's not a very nice thing to say."

"The truth often isn't nice," Rayla said.

"But I'm nice."

"You…what does that have to do with the truth?"

"So…I'm not nice?"

"What?"

"I said I'm nice. You said it has nothing to do with the truth. One might infer that in me saying I'm nice, and you saying that it has nothing to do with the truth, one could infer that I'm not nice."

"I…" Rayla scowled, glancing to the side. "Fine. You're not nice."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that."

"And you've still got terrible taste in friends."

Callum didn't respond to that. Even seated as he was, he felt like he was walking the edge of the cliff hounded by wolves. Take one step the wrong way, and he'd fall to his death. Take one step the other way, and he'd be mauled to death. Only question was whether in this scenario, who were the wolves, and who was the cliff. Either way, he was in the middle of it. Rayla on one side. Soren and Claudia on the other, keeping their distance from everyone. That left Ellis, Ezran, Bait, and Azymondias, clustered in a third group. Trying to look like they weren't interested (like Ezran), trying to hide their fear (like Ellis), or not hiding anything because they couldn't conceive of the need for such things (like Bait and Az). Not that he could be completely sure what glow toads and dragon hatchlings thought, but-

"Hey."

He blinked. "What?"

"You," Rayla said.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. You're meant to say it."

"I…what?"

She sighed. "I just said you had terrible taste in friends."

"That you did."

"I'm referring to the whole escapade of near decapitation and the use of dark magic."

"I'm aware of what happened."

"So, it's at this point that you're meant to sell me on the worth of teaming up with these people."

"We can hear you you know," Soren called out.

"You think I care?"

_Please don't do this._

Callum wasn't sure who the prayer was directed towards. Rayla, who clutched one of her blades? Or Soren, who was clutching his own. Maybe both – certainly neither of them made a move. Still, clutching blades was just one step short of actually using them in his experience. Certainly, when Soren had tried to kill Rayla, he'd meant it. And Rayla had possessed every intention of killing him when she'd fought back.

"So…they're terrible then," Rayla said.

"What?"

"You've so far offered no counter-argument as to why your friends aren't terrible."

"Rayla, I know-"

"I know the ogre with a sword wants to kill me, and the witch over there uses dark magic."

"Well, that's true, but in fairness, you tried to kill him."

"I-"

"And you also tried to sweep the leg." He smiled. "Trust me. Soren doesn't like it when people try to sweep the leg."

Rayla scowled. "Are you trying to be funny?"

"Um…yes?"

"Yeah, well, you're failing."

"Look…" Callum took a breath. "Y'know…like…"

"Yes?"

"The rose," he said. "You kept awake by using the thorn against your skin so when my friend over here tries to kill you-"

"Still haven't forgotten that by the way."

"…well, think of Soren like…a rose," Callum said.

"What?"

"A rose," Callum repeated. "Like, every rose has its thorns."

"No."

"No?"

"No," Rayla said. "Not every rose has thorns. There's plenty of roses that don't have thorns."

"It's a-"

"I mean, every tonew has thorns, but then the tonew plant is semi-intelligent, and-"

"It's a saying, alright?" Callum said. The anger in him was beginning to bubble to the surface. "Like, a way of saying that even something beautiful can be deadly."

"Um…" Rayla looked at Callum's friends – still on the edge of the camp, still keeping watch on what was going on in it, and what was going on around it. "You're…telling me that they're beautiful?"

"I-"

"That one in the armour? Please. He's plain even by your kind's standards.

_Excuse me?_

"And the dark magic girl. I mean, sure, I could see why you might consider her attractive, but, I mean, she isn't _that _attractive, and-"

"Rayla, are you-"

"No, I'm not jealous."

"Oh. I was just going to ask if you were okay."

Something flushed in the elf's cheeks, both akin to the colour of the fire. Or a rose. One of those things.

"Point is…Soren and Claudia…they're like roses," Callum said. He wished he'd picked a better analogy, but now it was too late. "Like, so far, you've only seen the thorns, but stick around a bit, smell the flowers, get to know them…you might even like them."

Rayla, after a pause, said, "so…you're saying that your friends are like flowers. And I've just got to learn to appreciate beauty on the inside and all that."

"Um, yeah. Pretty much."

"Wow. That's got to be one of the dumbest things I ever heard you say."

Callum's cheeks turned red as well. But not like a fire or a rose. More like a volcano. He got to his feet. So did the elf.

"I mean, you've said some truly stupid things since we've been travelling, but-"

Callum punched her.

In what was left of his conscious mind, he was actually surprised that he was able to pull it off. Rayla was fast, skilled, and should have been able to evade the attack with ease. But his conscious mind had let instinct take over. Instinct that drove his body. Instinct that kept him on the attack, despite the danger he was in. Instinct that overrode anything else.

He'd never been in a fight before. He was the adopted son of King Harrow – people didn't pick fights with the prince, even if he was hopeless at using a sword. But this wasn't a swordfight. It was a fistfight. It was one that continued even as Rayla struck back, hitting his nose. It continued as they fell into the dirt, punching, spitting, yelling. Even as the blood poured out of his nostrils, even as it poured out of hers, even as he heard Ezran and Ellis shouting…it meant nothing. All that was left was the moment. The need to fight.

"That's enough!"

Had anyone said that, he wondered? A thousand years of hatred between humans and elves, had anyone yelled "enough?"

"**I said that's enough!"**

He didn't know. He didn't care. All he cared about was that Claudia was pulling him on way, and Soren had grabbed Rayla from behind. He saw her reach for one of her blades.

"Don't."

Saw Soren put a knife to her throat. Saw, out of the corner of his eye, Ellis and Ezran come over. Saw in their eyes many things – shame. Confusion. And what hit him most of all…fear.

"Do it," Rayla hissed. She twisted her head to look at Soren. "You wanted to last time, didn't you?"

Soren didn't say anything, but in his eyes, Callum could see it. The desire. The bloodlust. It was something that he'd never seen in Soren before.

"I did," Soren said.

It terrified him.

"And I could do it now."

"Then why don't you?"

Seeing Rayla's eyes, hearing Rayla's voice…that terrified him as well.

"Because Prince Callum doesn't want me to." He met Callum's gaze, and in it, Callum saw an understanding. "Because, for whatever reason, he calls you a friend."

Rayla didn't say anything. That fire in her eyes was beginning to die down, but Callum could see it wasn't extinguished. Just retreating. A reminder that maybe some fires could never fade.

"Of course, if you're not friends, then I really have no reason but to-"

"We're friends," Callum blurted out.

Soren met his gaze for a moment, before releasing Rayla. She staggered away, rubbing her throat.

"Soren…"

Soren didn't say anything. He didn't even look at him. He just sheathed the knife and headed off back to the edge of the camp. To the tree where he'd once lingered at. Claudia, for her part, let him go as well, before heading off to join her brother.

"Claudia…"

She at least gave him the courtesy of stopping and meeting his eyes, but in hers, he saw it. Disappointment. The look that his foster father had tried so often to hide.

"We'll talk in the morning," she said, before letting her gaze linger over Rayla as well. "Just make sure you have something worth saying."

"Claudia…"

She turned away and walked off. As he turned his gaze to his brother and Ellis, he saw they were still there. Still looking at him in the same way. Ellis turned around and walked away.

"Ezran…"

So did his brother. He went to follow him-

"Don't."

He could feel her hand on his shoulder. Glaring, he turned to meet her gaze.

"I don't think they'll want to talk to us for awhile."

_Us, _Callum noted. He hadn't expected that. He had nothing to apologize for with this...assassin. But he could already tell that all Ezran had seen was him throwing the first punch. And children believed what they saw.

"I mean-"

He shoved her hand off. "Don't talk to me."

He saw something in her eyes, not too dissimilar from what he'd seen in his brother's. Unlike Ezran though, he didn't particularly care. All he wanted to do was to find a tree, find a bearskin, and sleep the sleep of the departed.

"You were right, you know."

He paused.

"About thorns and roses."

He couldn't believe it, but his neck carried his head round to look at her, even while his mind yelled _keep walking_.

"I mean…" She took a step forward, rolling her hands together before nodding towards Claudia and Soren. "Like…I thought they were thorns, but I guess…I mean, maybe they've got roses…or they are roses…what I mean is…" She took a breath. "I mean, maybe your taste in friends isn't absolutely terrible."

"Gee. Thanks."

"And…" She was still rubbing her hands together, as she lowered her gaze. "I guess…what I mean to say is…" She took a breath. "Look. I've got thorns. Sometimes I prick people. And…what I mean is…like, if you'll give me another chance…"

"Basically you're saying that you're a good person, despite the whole prickly demeanour thing you've got on where you antagonize everyone around you."

"Um, don't know about everyone, but…yeah."

Callum snorted.

"What?"

"I've always known that," he said. "Think that's a sign I've got good taste in friends, right?"

He didn't wait to hear what she had to say. He just headed off to the edge of the camp. Murmuring, "I mean, every thorn has its roses."


End file.
